Red Dead Redemption: An Outlaws Redemption
by ProjectRekal
Summary: Arthur's lived a hard life finding relative peace in the gang he grew up with. Dutch, Hosea even Bill were family and home. Strauss sends Arthur to collect the debts and having been successful it's now Thomas Downes turn to cough up the money, of course, Arthur is sent but Dutch takes this opportunity to educate some younger gang members. [AU RDR2 telling. ENJOY!]
1. Chapter 1

**[ AUTHORS NOTE: So I adore RDR2 and have recently begun another playthrough, hence the inspiration to write in the genre, and though I do approve of how the game ended I wanted to change just a few things about the outcome. So this is my retelling of RDR2, many things will change as time goes on. We'll see how far we get anyway! Remember all feedback is greatly appreciated! Can't wait to get things going :) Hope you enjoy this first snippet-as you can tell things will change dramatically. ]**

* * *

**Red Dead Redemption: An Outlaws Redemption**

"Why don't you take young Lenny with you? He could do with some experience from a man such as yourself," Dutch nodded in the direction of the youngest gang member who sat at one of the tables opposite Mary-Beth he was playing with the knife and drumming it against the wood. Arthur cast a look in the young man's direction. Out of all the gang members to choose from, aside from Charles, Lenny was one of the ones Arthur could tolerate for more than an hour. The boy was young but he showed promising spirit and grit to survive in the collapsing west like Dutch had said before 'always the first one on his horse'.  
"What you mean Micah didn't show him enough?" Arthur muttered sarcastically blowing a plume of smoke from his lips. Dutch cocked a brow. Did Arthur need Lenny though? He only needed to threaten a good for nothing do-gooder how hard could that prove to be? Thomas Downes was a spindly thing that only preached for the poor and helpless but the man couldn't help himself! All that money he tried to raise in Valentine he should have been smart and raised it for himself. If he had he wouldn't find himself in the position he was in.  
Arthur plucked the cigarette from his lips and shrugged.  
"Alright fine." Arthur tossed the used butt to the side and pulled the peak of his hat down across his brow. Giving a nod to Dutch and Strauss he turned and marched forward.  
"He's more slippery then he seems, Mr. Morgan. Don't take any nonsense," Strauss called out after him.  
"Nonsense, me?" Arthur smirked feigning shock before shaking his head and continued his march.  
He knew what to do and how to do it.  
Strauss should have had a little more faith in him.  
He passed Charles who was hauling a number of rabbits towards Pearson, John was sat awkwardly with Abigail as they attempted a conversation, Jack was scurrying about after Hosea and Uncle was harassing Grimshaw...or maybe it was the other way around.  
"Morning, Arthur," Mary-Beth looked up from the table where she sat with Lenny. Arthur tipped his hat.  
"'Scuse me, Mary-Beth. You don't mind if I borrow Lenny here?"  
Mary-Beth's cheeks turned a shade of pale pink and she raised her brows.  
"Course I don't!" She stammered. Arthur grinned.  
"You need something Arthur?" Lenny asked curiously over his shoulder as he picked up the revolver off the table and holstered the weapon before sliding the blade he had been playing with away.  
"Dutch wants you to have a bit more experience in debt collecting, come on. You'll need your horse," Arthur turned.  
"Sure thing!" Lenny grinned bouncing up from his seat and toward the eastern side of the camp where Maggie would be waiting him.

Arthur approached the large dappled grey hide of Lux. The stallion raised its head in the morning light, it's long white forelock was draped over its eyes like curtains. The Hungarian half-breed dwarfed most of the camps horses, Old Boy being his only rival, but the outlaw was growing to have quite the companion in the beast. After Boadicea Arthur wasn't sure he'd find another horse as good but Lux was proving himself to be just as good, if not better. Reaching out he snatched the rains from the hitch, with a jerk the rains slipped free and were swung over the beasts thick neck. The stallion chewed at the iron in its mouth as Arthur fastened the girth of the saddle its ears flickering back briefly. The day was warm, a subtle heated breeze was washing down from the north, flies zipped around the undergrowth irritating the rest of the horses that pulled at the grass. The sky was a teal blue fading slowly into a dreary grey, clouds rolling in front the ocean down south. Arthur finally threw his foot up catching the stirrup before hauling himself up onto the stallion. Lux grunted before spinning instinctively beginning away from the camp before a gentle pull on the rains halted him. Arthur cast his eyes across the camp to where Lenny was bustling forward, pony in tow. Once the boy had mounted they got underway. Trotting from the camp both horses left the cover of the trees heading onto the beaten road toward the Downes ranch.

* * *

The air grew thick, stifling, the heavy weight of a storm was rolling in quickly. Arthur wanted to get this done before the damned thing hit he hadn't brought his duster coat and with only the loose white shirt he didn't fancy getting caught in a downpour. A pair of deer took flight as they rode the trail, Arthur made note of their location for when he went hunting next. Rabbits scurried through the grasses to their burrows seemed they knew about the storm too. Arthur held the rains loosely in his left hand, Lenny following happily. The little mustang had to work hard to keep pace with the Hungarian's extended strides.  
"So what's this about? Last time we did anything together I ended up in a cell for a night."  
Arthur laughed. "Guess that's better than ending up half way to Rhodes and having to walk back to camp."  
"Let's face it, Arthur, you could do with the exercise," Lenny teased. "You getting soft on that big old horse of yours."  
"Soft? You gotta' be kidding me. I've been running around more than anyone since we got here, don't you be talking like that. Besides I managed to slip the lawmen-you didn't." Arthur called over his shoulder.  
Lenny laughed again.  
"Whatever you say Arthur."

* * *

The hooves drummed the dirt as they ascended the steep bank to the farm. A small garden patch was to the left hand side of the small cottage, a barn and some livestock pens had been constructed just past the cottage. It wasn't much, more then what Arthur had but not much. Arthur gently pulled the rains, leaning back and slowing Lux who snorted, Lenny finally drawing up next to him.  
"Check around for the do-gooder. Start with the barn," Arthur gestured toward the large sun bleached red barn to the north of the property. At a glance he couldn't see the man in the vegetable patch, he may be among the corn stalks but if he was Lenny could flush him out.  
"Okay," Lenny nodded spurring Maggie toward the large barn. Arthur turned now reining Lux toward the front of the cottage. The horses hooves thudded on the earth-no that was the sound of thunder rumbling in the heavens above. Halting Lux just before the porch of the cottage Arthur swung his leg over the front of the saddle and slid off the side of the horse and just as his boots met with the ground the door of the cottage opened revealing a woman in a grey high collared dress and apron. Her eyes scrutinized Arthur, her hair pulled back severely from her hook nosed face. Arthur could make out the form of a boy pushing past her and standing in front of her defensively.

"What do you want?" The boy demanded.  
Arthur cocked a brow and smirked. "You think you can talk to me like that? I ain't here for you, I'm here for Mr. Downes and you sure ain't him...though you look like him." The eyes and nose were the same but the rest belonged to the woman Arthur quickly deduced this was their son.  
"If you're here about the money-" the woman spoke up.  
"Then you ain't as stupid as you look. Where is he?"  
"My husband's not well," the woman shook her head pushing in front of her son.  
"Yeah...noticed that," Arthur has heard the man spluttering and coughing his way through Valentine, the bloodshot eyes and pale skin. No the man wasn't well at all. "He's gonna be a hell of a lot worse if you don't tell me where he is." Arthur warmed.  
"We ain't giving you nothing," the son growled.  
"See that's where you are wrong," Arthur hissed taking a step toward the porch placing a boot on the first step, "You see that horse?" He hooked a finger to Lux. "That belonged to a feller up Painted Sky, he owed us a lot of money too but he was like you-didn't want to pay up. So, you see, I can take whatever I want from this pitiful farm of yours until the debts settled or you can get me the money. Now I'd rather get the money, I don't have much use for cows and pigs nor obnoxious little shits like you," Arthur looked to the son.  
"We don't have it," Mrs. Downes said finally pursing her lips attempting to hold onto some pride.  
"Hey Arthur! I found him," Lenny's voice echoed from near the vegetable patch.

Arthur stepped away from the porch quickly and marched for the patch, Mrs. Downes and her son following swiftly. Arthur's eyes found Thomas Downes pinned against the fence by Lenny who held the man by his collar. The farmer was bloody nosed and panting, the kid must have put some of his skills to use them.  
"Ah Mr. Downes," Arthur greeted in a polite tone before it shifted to a menacing growl, "You owe me money."  
"Please, sir...I'm...I'll-" Thomas began before coughing violently. "Please sir, I have a family."  
Arthur entered the patch striding toward where Lenny had the farmer pinned.  
"I don't care about your family!" Arthur snorted before nodding to Lenny. Lenny removed a hand from the man's collar and threw his fist out catching the man in the stomach. Thomas doubled over and spluttered a few gasping breaths.  
"Stop!" Mrs. Downes called from behind them.  
"Why did it have to come to this?" Arthur heaven shaking his head.  
"Believe me, sir. I didn't want this either," Thomas heaved another choking breath. Arthur looked to Lenny and nodded. The young gang member turned his attention to Thomas and threw another fist across the man's jaw, wasn't as hard as Arthur would but Lenny was learning and he had much to learn.  
"You ain't such a do-gooder, are you?" Arthur hissed, "If you're running out on debts!"  
Arthur felt a rough force knock against him. He spun and snatched hold of the young Downes by the scruff of his neck and with a swift single swing of his fist he sent the boy toppling back to the floor with ease. Mrs. Downes gave a cry of fear and rushed toward her son who churned in the dirt.  
"We ain't running from the likes of you!" The son barked nursing his bruised ego and lip.  
"I'm doing my best for you," Thomas choked another wheezing cough from his lungs. "Please leave my son be!"  
"You borrowed money from my business partner, Herr Strauss. You owe him. You took the money. He wants it back what's not to understand?" Arthur bellowed turning his attention to Thomas again.  
This was getting tiresome.  
The faint patter of rain began to tap off Arthur's stetson.  
Just what he wanted.  
"Please stop this!" Mrs. Downes begged. Thomas gave another hocking cough before growing a pair of balls suddenly and spitting directly into Lenny's face. That irritated Arthur. He marched toward the man and snatched hold of him pushing Lenny back before throwing his fist against Thomas's face, there was a crack of bone as the farmer's nose crunched. Thomas wailed loudly as Arthur's hands snatched hold of the farmer's suspenders and threw him against the fence of the vegetable patch. Mrs. Downes shrieked again.  
"Where's our money?" Arthur demanded.  
"I don't have it."  
"Sell your place then."  
"We already owe more than it's worth," Thomas choked.  
"Then sell your wife, or your family, or something. We ain't your idea of charity!" Arthur tightened his grip lifting the man nearly off his feet. "Is that clear?"  
All Arthur got was another wheezing cough.

Raising a lip in disgust Arthur knew it was a waste of time to stay much longer. The storm was rolling in now, the rumbles of thunder echoing through the Heartlands, the air becoming sticky and heavy while the patter of rain began to grow heavier. Lenny spat from his mouth growling in irritation, running the back of his hand over his chin.  
"Son of a bitch," Lenny hissed.  
Arthur dropped the spindly man to the floor where he crumpled like a leaf that had fallen from a tree. His face was bruising and bloody, his coughing growing uncontrollable as he twisted and writhed on the floor.  
"Thomas!" Mrs. Downes was sobbing as she rushed past Arthur to her crumpled husband on the floor. She assessed her husband. Arthur knocked a fist against Lenny as he passed the boy and gestured to the horses.  
"If we could just have more-" Mrs. Downes began.  
"Like I said-" Arthur growled over his shoulder as he approached Lux. Lenny was sitting atop Maggie waiting while Arthur mounted his stallion. He cast a look to the small family, "We ain't nobody's idea of charity. Get us the money!"

With that Arthur and Lenny turned their horses and left the Downes family behind as the heavens above opened and rain cascaded down in thick heavy sheets.

What a day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

* * *

The horses hooves splattered through the growing puddles. Lux had his head tilted to the side attempting to stop the rain from lashing against his face. Maggie was snorting in protest with every roll of thunder that shook the skies. Would be a hell of a night. Arthur, with one hand in his hat and the other in the rains, looked over his shoulder to Lenny who was scolding the mustang beneath him.  
"You can handle gunfire but not some thunder?" Lenny criticized the mare.  
"Bit like ol' Davey, he never did like storms neither," Arthur smirked.  
Lenny gave a solemn laugh. A silence followed as both gang members remembered the Callander boys.  
What a shame.  
"Can't believe that guy spat on me," Lenny called over the tumble of the storm. Arthur gave a brief look to the boy before ducking his head down and using the peak of his hat to shield his face as the pair turned down past Valentine. The town looked like a ghost town, not one person or horse was to be seen. The saloon was teaming as usual but even the music of the piano was faint in the rumbles of the storm.  
"I wouldn't worry," Arthur murmured in Lenny's direction.  
"Didn't look too healthy to me," Lenny grumbled.  
Arthur could hear Mrs. Downes words in his head. '_My husband isn't well'_. A common cold no doubt. Lenny could take the time he needed, Arthur would be heading into town to meet up with John in regards to some job he had been going on about. Lenny scrubbed at his mouth again before spitting again.  
"Let's just get back to camp before this storm gets any worse," Arthur called out spurring his heels into Lux's sides. The stallion with a disgruntled shake of his head jumped into a steady canter down the trail.

The camp was chaos by the time Arthur and Lenny returned.  
They met a disgruntled Karen on their way in, the blonde's hair was scattered and her face red from the whip of rain and wind. The camp itself was trying to combat the winds. Jack and Abigail were tucked in their tent with Tilly, Mary-Beth and Mrs. Adler huddling together as the canvas of the tent were shaken violently. Bill, Kieran, and Javier were busy trying to secure the horses, Swanson and Uncle were nowhere to be seen, as usual. Miss Grimshaw was barking orders even over the roar of a storm Arthur could hear her.  
"Why don't you help John getting the food covered," Arthur gestured to Marston and Pearson who was busy securing the supply wagon. Lenny swiftly nodded and departed to aid the others. Arthur swung down from Lux to be met with Charles.  
"Hello Arthur," Charles nodded from beneath his hat.  
"Got some nice weather here huh?"  
"It's better than the mountains," Charles shrugged.  
"You seen Dutch?"  
"In his tent."  
With a nod Arthur left Lux, quickly removing the saddle and throwing it to the base of a tree before tying the horse to a post and beginning through the camp. Arthur made a quick line to Dutch's tent which shook wildly. Pulling back the entrance he stepped inside, aside the shaking walls it was cozy inside. Molly was laid on the bed beneath the blankets while Dutch was just shrugging off the waistcoat and unbuttoning his shirt.  
"Hello, son," Dutch's eyes gleamed like a proud father.  
Arthur was dripping wet and he made a note to himself to always carry the wax duster coat in the future. He nodded to Dutch.  
"How was our friend Mr. Downes?" Dutch asked.  
"Like a dying cat. The man's dying Dutch, we'll be lucky if we get even a cent back from him."  
"I'm sure you convinced him, try again in a day or two. I'm sure they'll suddenly have found a way to get our money to us."  
"Alright," Arthur nodded turning to leave.  
"Good job, Arthur. I have every faith in you." Dutch called out as Arthur left the tent and made his way toward his own.

A canvas sheet had been wrapped around the usual open quarters. The ammunition had been covered and stored behind the wagon. Arthur quickly dove for cover beneath the shelter of the canvas relieved at the protection from the rain, he shook his arms like a dog from his body. He'd have to head into Valentine and get a bath at some point in the next few days if he was given the time. Reaching up he plucked the hat from his head and set it on the small table next to the makeshift bed before stripping the shirt off his body. Rummaging through the chest at the bed's end he found an old blanket to dry his body off before sourcing some fresh clothing. The sound of the storm continued outside the thin canvas. Heavy cracks of lightning and rolls of thunder amidst the torrential rain that hammered down.  
The night was rolling in and bathing the land in a dark eerie shadow. If he were a religious man he'd have believed the heavens above were angry like something had changed and the man above was irritated. Arthur sat heavily on the edge of the bed and produced his journal from his satchel flicking it open and sourcing a pen he put it to the paper.

_'Lenny and _me_ went out to the Downes ranch today by request of Herr Strauss. What a mess. The man owed us money, Thomas Downes was his name, and the man is no better off than a corpse in the ground. Weak and dying. How _we_ going to get that money? Dutch wants me to check back in a few days and I think all I'll find is a corpse. Lenny seems to be getting the hang of this stuff though, maybe when I'm old and crippled he'll be the muscle and I'll be like old Hosea. Who am I kiddin' I ain't going to live to see old age, no doubt._'

Arthur flicked the journal closed and set it on the table before reclining back on the bed and staring at the canvas roof. It shuddered in the wind again the rain attempting to make it buckle. Dousing the light Arthur focused on sleep for now. With any luck, the storm would have blown over by tomorrow.

* * *

"Ah shit!"  
The unmistakable cursing of Bill woke him. Arthur growled and turned on the cot. The sound of storming weather was gone, the pleasant chirp of birds echoes in the fresh morning air. Gathering himself he pulled the old worn roper boots on, collected his journal and satchel and left his tent. His eyes were blinded by the bright rays of sunlight that gleamed down on the camp. His attention was drawn to the campfire to the left. Bill was stooped over, a pot of boiling water was spilled on the earth next to him and he was nursing a scalded hand.  
"Bit early for stupidity ain't it Bill?" Arthur asked approaching and sitting the Stetson on his head. Bill looked over his shoulder with the expression of an irritated badger.  
"Shut it, Morgan," was Bill's retort. Arthur had a sly grin now as he approached the veteran and patted the man's shoulder. Bill shrugged him off and grumbled again. Doing what Bill forgot Arthur bent low and collected the steaming pot using a spare rag setting it over the fire to boil. Bill took a seat at the fire and continued to grumble. Arthur took a seat under the shade of one of the tents as he waited for the water to boil. Javier shortly appeared and sat on the log next to Bill while Arthur sourced a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.  
"What have you done now?" Javier asked glancing to Bill.  
"Why does everyone always assume I've done something?" Bill growled.  
"Because you probably have," Javier shrugged.  
"I dropped the darn pot okay? Happy? Let's all laugh!" Bill grumbled sarcastically.  
"I'm not happy at all, I was actually looking forward to some coffee." Javier cocked a brow.  
"Well, would you look at this!" Mrs. Grimshaw announced striding toward them. "Three fine men and all sat doing nothing." She came to a halt, hands on hips. Arthur felt his head sag onto his chest as he blew the smoke from his mouth.  
"I was just about to go hunting anyway," Bill stood up.  
"You? Hunting? Guess the animals have nothing to worry about today," Arthur snorted before taking a drag on the cigarette again. Bill glowered.  
"You know sarcasm don't suit you," Bill turned and marched away. Arthur and Javier laughed.  
"Well at least he's doing something," Mrs. Grimshaw watched Bill go.  
"Some peace and quiet," Javier nodded thankfully.  
"Yes well, there's still work to be done around here," Mrs. Grimshaw announced.  
Wonderful.  
Before she could rope him into some inane task Arthur rose from his seat. He didn't really need coffee anyway. He stepped away from the fire and in the direction of the chopping block.  
"Hey Arthur," a voice called out. He paused. Turning his attention to the right he saw Abigail sat on a rug beneath one of the tents, she was flicking through a book...why? She couldn't read. Arthur cocked a brow when he saw _that_ look on her face. "Come here a minute," Abigail gave him a sweet smile.  
What did she want?  
She shuffled off the rug now and stood up stepping toward him. Arthur pulled the cigarette from his lips slowly.  
"Can I ask you a favor?" There was that smile again.  
Arthur hesitated a moment before exhaling the smoke away from her. "Probably not," he grunted.  
"Very funny," Abigail rolled her eyes, "Would you do something with Jack? He seems kinda down."  
Arthur moved forward a number of paces and sat himself down on a rock that lingered close by to finish his cigarette. He focused his attention on the cigarette while Abigail continued.  
"All this upheaval can't have been easy on the poor kid."  
Arthur pulled the cigarette from his lips a last time and flicked the used butt away before looking back to Abigail as he stood up once more.  
"Why?" He asked, "Because I'm your favoured nursemaid?"  
"Because he likes you and well..." Abigail cast her eyes down now, ashamed. Arthur could guess what was coming next, "You know his father's useless."  
How sad.  
John could have been a lot if he weren't so blind at what stood before him. A woman who loved him, despite his stupidity sometimes, and a son that only wanted to have his father appreciate him and care for him. Arthur sighed heavily. Though it was Johns duty Arthur knew that John wouldn't be the first person Abigail asked and at the end of it all the only one to suffer would be Jack.  
"Okay," Arthur nodded. Abigail's face lit up and she smiled wide.  
"Thank you." She turned and pointed to the other side of the camp. "He's by the horses."

Nodding Arthur set off in the direction she had gestured in. It didn't take long to spot the boy sat on the floor playing with a stick and making shapes in the freshly sodden mud. Looked like a fun time, then again what else was the kid to do? Arthur gathered himself as he approached and finally spoke.  
"Whatchu up to?" He asked coming to a halt and hooking his thumbs on his belt. Jack looked up and studied Arthur a moment before shrugging and muttering;  
"Playing."  
"Anything fun?"  
"I guess," Jack replied.  
It was then Arthur realized that he hadn't actually had anything in mind to do with the boy. The kid was smart, not like him when he was young. Hosea was teaching him to read and write and Jack seemed far more interested in living a level life then the one they had chosen. Arthur could see him one day in an office in New York or being some kind of lawyer, at least that's what Abigail maintained.  
"You wanna come fishing with me?" It was the first thing Arthur had thought of and as he had suspected Jack seemed taken aback and none too enthusiastic.  
"Fishing?" The boy scowled ceasing his drawing in the dirt.  
"Sure," Arthur put an excited twang to his words attempting to get the boy excited. "You're-" where was he going with that? He changed his mind, "It's about time you started to earn your keep."  
This statement seemed to garner more attention from the boy, like Arthur had just told him he was becoming a man. Isn't that what every child wanted to hear?  
"Okay," Jack gave a smile now.  
"Good, let's go get your pole then," Arthur's excited tone returned, "You do have a pole don't you?"  
Jack leapt up from the ground tossing the stick away now a beaming smile on his face. "I sure do," he nodded looking up at Arthur who towered over him. "Uncle Hosea made me one."  
Of course, the old dog would make the boy a fishing pole. Arthur could remember his time on the waters with Dutch and Hosea and though Arthur never reached their standards Hosea had always revelled in then teaching.  
"Good. Let's go get it then," Arthur leans down onto his knees so he was on the boys level and smiled, "And catch us some fish!"  
"Yeah!" Jack grinned bounding away now to find his rod. Is this what being a parent was like? He had to give credit to Abigail. Turning he watched the boy vanishing off into the camp before turning his own attention to Lux.

The tall beast was hitched next to Branwen, Kieran's horse, the O'Driscoll boy giving the horse a good brushing off. Since his time in the camp as a free man began Kieran would spend the majority of his day with the horses and showed them every bit of care he could. Least it kept him busy and the camps still distant relationship with him probably meant the horses were the only ones who accepted him. As Arthur approached Kieran looked up.  
"Morning Arthur," Kieran smiled.  
"There he is," Arthur nodded setting his hands in the hefty saddle and throwing it onto Lux's back. "You sure love these animals huh?"  
"Well the storm last night seems to have made them all pretty tense, specially Branwen here, so I'm just taking some time to make sure none of them done themselves an injury."  
"Do the O'Driscoll's always look after their horse this much?" Arthur cocked a brow as he fastened the girth and breastplate of the saddle. Lux grunted and nipped out at Branwen who snorted in return. Kieran ceases his brushing and turned fully to Arthur.  
"I ain't an O'Driscoll how many times I got to say it?" Kieran always seemed hurt when named by the title of his previous gang. Arthur looked at the boy briefly before smirking and shaking his head.  
"Calm down," he reassured, "Can't hardly expect to jump from gang to gang without a name sticking."  
"I saved your life, doesn't that prove anything?"  
"Sure," Arthur nodded before pulling himself up into Lux and gathering up the rains, "But if I die because of some terrible disease and had the opportunity to just be shot? You're in trouble."

Jack came bumbling back the long fishing pole in his hand a large grin on his face while Arthur noted Abigail watching with a smile. She waved to Arthur, who tipped his hat in return. Jack ran to Lux and looked up to Arthur, craning his neck. Arthur reached down and took the pole sliding it into the empty shotgun holster on the front of the saddle. What a strange sight. Next, he had to lean a considerable amount down hooking onto Jack and heaving him up into the saddle plonking the child in front of him.  
"Wow! Lux sure is big!" Jack grinned over his shoulder to Arthur.  
"He sure is," Arthur nodded. The stallion must have been three hands bigger then Boadicea. "Why don't you give him a pat huh?"  
"Okay," Jack steadily reached his hand forward and touched the dappled horse's neck stroking the hair before giggling. "He's soft."  
"That'll be Kieran's work for you," Arthur cast a look to the O'Driscoll on his right. Kieran glanced up and gave a smile at the mention of his name. "You just hold on to that mane, Jack." Arthur took up the reins in one hand before putting another around the child. Jack keenly wrapped his hands into Lux's white mane while Arthur turned the horse and tapped the horse's barrel spurring him forward away from the camp.

* * *

As Lux descended the grassy bank through the trees the stallion picked up the pace and began to trot toward the road. Jack bounced in the saddle giggling with every bounce. Arthur grinned at the boy's excitement he supposed he had grown numb to the pleasure of riding now anytime it was done was for business or hunting...he'd have to try and just ride out one day like he used to."  
Where are we going?" Jack asked through the giggles and bouncing.  
"Just down to the river near here," Arthur replied, "We shouldn't go too far from camp."  
Lux carefully picked his way down the steep hill.  
"Okay," Jack grinned returning to his giggling.  
"You feeling better? I know you was a little sick."  
"Oh, I'm fine."  
"You're a brave kid, you know?" Arthur admired the kid's resilience and spirit. Amidst everything that was happening it seemed the only one to constantly maintain a cool attitude was indeed the child. Maybe it was because he didn't know better or maybe it was because the boy had a genuinely strong resolve.  
"Just like you," Jack giggled again as Lux picked up the pace into canter as the ground began to level out.  
That touched Arthur.  
Jack thought he was brave?  
There was a fine line between reckless and brave.  
"Well, I don't know about that," Arthur replied, "I'm not much of a kid anymore. Though your momma might disagree! Her and a few others...I guess." Arthur's mind drifted to Mary.  
Mary Linton.  
What a hold that woman had on him. She always had. The dark hair and eyes had bewitched him the first moment he had seen her and Arthur would be with her still if it weren't for her father. Nothing Arthur had done had ever been good enough for that family and Mary-ever loyal and only wanting to please-ceased the relationship. Then she had come back. She was just in Valentine. Arthur had helped again. What a fool he was.  
"What do you mean?" Jack's voice broke through Arthur's swirling thoughts.  
"I'm just talking silly," Arthur admitted as Lux took to the trail that ran parallel to the river. "It's been a tough few weeks."  
"I liked the snow," Jack said.  
"Yeah-but not like that," Arthur pointed out. He could just see the peak of the snow topped mountains on the horizon peeking over the cliff face. No. He didn't want to ever have to deal with that snow again.  
"When are we going back to the other camp?"  
The question tore through Arthur like a bullet. As soon as he believed the boy to be maturing he asked an innocent question like that. Arthur gave the rains a gentle pull bringing the stallion back to a walk before the horse slipped down off the grassy bank to the rocky edging of the river.  
"The one near Blackwater?"  
"Yeah," Jack nodded.  
"Well...we're not. This is out spot for now." Arthur rained the horse along the bank before quickly selecting a spot on the shoreline before anymore questions were asked. Did Abigail not explain any of this? "This looks like a good spot."  
Arthur took hold of Jack and lifted the boy easily off the front of the saddle and set him down on the bank. The boy's legs wobbled as he hit the stones and he stumbled onto his backside with a yelp. Arthur's heart leapt into his throat and he cast his eyes down to the giggling child. Slowly he breathed out and reached for the fishing rod.  
"You alright?"  
"Yeah, my legs feel funny," Jack nodded. Arthur handed the boy the rod before swinging down from the saddle himself and retrieving his own rod, tucked beneath the saddle. Jack took his time taking in the surrounding views before finally looking at the waters and taking a bounding step toward it.  
"Where do we stand, Uncle Arthur?"  
Rounding Lux Arthur gestured the boy to follow. "Down by the shore, come on."

* * *

The day was warm, the sun bathing the sodden lands and drying everything out once again. Blue cloudless skies lingered overhead and the babble and rush of the river over the rocks was as soothing as any sound. Arthur noted a few wild horses on the far side of the bank that watched him and Jack intently before returning to their grazing. Lux attempted to communicate with them but they denied the stallion who returned to his grazing on the bank. Arthur stepped toward the bank, Jack following like a shadow before stepping up next to him.  
"We're gonna need some bait," Arthur muttered propping his rod in the bank and searching in his satchel. He was sure he should have something in here. After a moment he produced a wedge of cheese. It didn't smell too fine to him but the fish would love it.  
"Let's use this cheese," Arthur nodded breaking off a small chunk and fixing it to the hook at the end of his line.  
"Cheese?" Jack scowled.  
"Smellier the better."  
"This stinks."  
"Then it's perfect," Arthur chuckled.  
"Now, to cast your line, swing the rod over your shoulder and in a smooth motion swing it forward. Use your wrist not your elbow," Arthur could already tell how Jack's cast was going to end up. The boy made a few adjustments before swinging. The line was cast out none too far but out.  
"Like that?" Jack asked looking up to Arthur.  
"That's it," Arthur praised. "Now all we got to do is wait for the fish to take the bait."  
"You mean the smelly cheese?"  
"It's called bait-but yeah. The smelly cheese," Arthur gave the boy a small smile before casting his own line out into the waters, aiming it down stream.  
There was a moment of silence before Jack turned his attention to Arthur again.  
"How do I know when I've got a bite?"  
"If the tip of your rod twitches don't yank it that means one's nibbling. When you feel a hard tug, that's when you know a fish has gone for the bait. Yank it hard to hook it."

As Arthur had expected it didn't take long for the boy to grow tired of fishing probably wasn't as exciting as Jack wanted it to be. The boy had reeled his rod in a long time ago and instead choose to pick some flowers and make something out of it. Arthur didn't mind as long as the boy was happy. Arthur decided to keep on fishing, see if he could catch anything for Pearson to cook up. He had caught a few pickerel nothing too exciting and most were on the smaller side so Arthur decided to toss them back into the waters.  
"Hey look at this," Jack called out.  
"At what?" Arthur asked tossing another fish back into the waters. He turned to see Jack cross-legged on the bank holding up a group of flowers he had tied together.  
"This necklace I made," Jack grinned. Arthur turned and stepped closer to the boy bending low next to him and studying what the boy had made. Red flowers laced together to form a necklace. Creative.  
"A necklace?"  
"For momma."  
"Sure, I'm sure she'll love it."  
"What a fine young man..." A voice called out.  
Arthur spun and rose to his feet quickly his eyes setting on two horses stood on the bank with two men dismounting from them. An andalusian and a warm-blood. The man on the warm-blood had a shotgun propped on his hip the other had an air of authority. "And in such complex circumstances." The man in the red waistcoat announced as he stepped forward. Arthur didn't need to spend long working out who the men were. Pinkertons. They'd found him?  
"Arthur isn't it? Arthur Morgan?" The man who had dismounted the andalusian asked.  
"Who are you?" Arthur asked, Jack had gotten up now and looked at the man cautiously. Arthur put a hand out and pushed the boy behind him just as the other agent cocked his gun. Arthur only had his volcanic pistol in the holster on his leg, the other holster held an old revolver that he wasn't sure who it would deal more damage to. Him or the agent.  
"Yes, Arthur Morgan..." The man in red said slowly, "Van der Linde's most trusted associate." The man turned his attention to the agent with a shotgun next to him, "You've read the files, typical case orphaned street kid seduced by that maniac's silver tongue and matures into a degenerate murderer."  
Arthur didn't know what to say or do.  
If it wasn't for Jack he'd have drawn his gun but could he have drawn it quick enough before the shotgun was fired. It was propped on the agent's shoulder, cocked and loaded. What did the agents want with him? Would they fire? Would they take him in? What about Jack?  
"Agent Milton," The man in red introduced himself finally, then gestured to the man at his side, "Agent Ross. Pinkerton Detective Agency seconded to the United States Government." Milton continued as both he and Ross approached Arthur, closing the small distance between them. They came to a halt three and a half away. Milton smiled now. "Nice to finally meet. We know a lot about you."  
And Arthur knew nothing about them.  
"Do you?" Arthur cocked a brow maintaining composure, he couldn't allow himself to seem afraid. He wasn't afraid of these clowns he was more concerned about the boy behind him and what would happen to him if things turned bad.  
"You're a wanted man, Mr. Morgan. Five thousand dollars for your head alone."  
"Five thousand dollars? For me? Can I turn myself in?" Arthur asked. That was no small price and hell he could do with some money, the whole gang could. Maybe they could come up with some form of a ruse to exploit that.  
"We want Van der Linde," Milton sighed hooking his hands on his belt.  
"Old Dutch? I haven't see him in months," Arthur lied.  
"That so?" Milton didn't buy it, "Because I heard a guy fitting his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass." Milton said reaching up and removing his bowler hat to scrub at his brow before sitting it back on his head.  
Arthur had gotten rid of the rest of Cornwall's men. Who talked?  
Did they have a traitor in their camp?  
How else was someone to know it had been Dutch?  
The first thing that sprung to mind. O'Driscoll.  
"Oh, ain't that a little old fashioned nowadays," Arthur smirked.  
"Apparently not," Milton muttered remaining stone faced. There was a silence before the agent spoke again. "Listen," He said taking another step forward and raising his hands, "This is my offer, Mr. Morgan. Bring in Van der Linde and you have my word, you won't swing."  
Jack's hands clutched onto the back of Arthur's stand collar over shirt. Abigail would kill him if these agents didn't. Gathering himself Arthur looked at Milton direct in the eye and shook his head.  
"I ain't gonna swing anyways Agent..."  
"Milton."  
"You see, I haven't done anything wrong aside from not play the game to your rules."  
Milton seemed unimpressed. "Spare me the philosophy lesson I've already heard it from Mac Callander."  
Arthur's blood ran cold.  
"Mac Callander?" Arthur scowled.  
"He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him..." Milton mused eyes drifting toward Jack, "So really it was more of a mercy killing."  
Arthur moved his body to shield Jack from the man's view making Milton focus his attention back to Arthur. That son of a bitch. Saying that in front of the kid? It was one thing to toy with Arthur it was another entirely to intentionally upset the boy. Arthur felt himself boiling to the point he wanted to start swinging his fists.  
"Slow..." Milton continued, a grin pulling at his lips. "But merciful."  
Arthur had enough.  
He slammed the rod he had been holding down onto the bank causing Jack to squeal and step back from him. Ross' gun was pulled off his shoulder and levelled at Arthur. Arthur dared him to pull the trigger, to give him a reason to retaliate. No. Jack was here. The boy didn't need to see blood. Arthur wasn't fazed by the gun pointed at him-his eyes were on Milton and him alone.  
"You enjoy being a rich man's toy do you?" He growled, fists clenching at his sides.  
"I enjoy society flaws and all," Milton snapped. The heated air between them was growing rapidly and it seemed for all Milton's poise and composure he was dying to attack but he needed Arthur. He needed someone to give in Van der Linde. If only he knew that Dutch was sitting only a mile away. Milton took another daring step toward Arthur.  
"You people venerate savagery and you will die savagely!" Milton barked now, tone raising. "All of you."  
Arthur held his ground and narrowed his eyes before a small smirk tugged at one side of his mouth. Was that a threat? Or challenge either way...  
"Oh, we're all gonna die agent."  
"Some of us sooner than others," Milton announced straightening, his words returning to a business tone. So it was a challenge. Arthur stared at the man, directly into the eyes like a wolf watched a doe. Milton finally turned, spinning and marching back up the bank toward his horse. Milton had broken the eye contact first guess Arthur was the stronger of the pair.  
"Good day, Mr. Morgan."  
"Goodbye," Arthur hissed watching Milton mount his horse.  
Ross kept the gun raised as he backed away from Arthur before looking down to a shaken Jack.  
"Enjoy your fishing, kid. While you still can..." Finally, the second agent turned and followed his companion to the horses. As the men mounted their horses Jack stepped past Arthur and studied them both.  
"Who were they?" He asked. Arthur reached out to the boy and put his hands on the boy's shoulders before ruffling Jack's hair affectionately.  
"No one to worry about," Arthur reassured turning the boy away from the retreating horses, "No one at all." Jack was a smart kid he knew there was more to it but he didn't ask any further for now. "Come on, let's get your thing and head home." Arthur gestured to all Jack's things on the bank before turning to fetch his own rod.

They moved quickly gathering everything in a matter of seconds before returning to the dozing form of Lux who was undisturbed by the events. The horse jumped to attention at their approach and shook his mane tossing his head. Arthur slipped his rod back under the saddle before heaving himself onto the beast and turning just as Jack handed his rod up to him. Sticking it back into the holster on the saddle Arthur leant down and quickly scooped the child up onto the saddle once more. Swiftly turning the horse Arthur eyed the surrounds checking for the agents they might have been lying low waiting for him to move and lead them straight back to camp. He'd have to take a detour. Spurring Lux forward he headed for Valentine, from there he'd swing back around to the camp making sure he wasn't followed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

* * *

"There you are! How you boy's getting on?" Abigail leaped up from her seat on the floor and ran toward them as Lux drew to a halt and shook his head. Arthur eyed Abigail as she came forward and lifted Jack off the front of the saddle setting him down on the ground once more, this time no wobbly legs.  
"Great we caught a fish!" Jack said with more excitement then he had shown at the bank. "And I made you this necklace." Jack held up the ring of flowers he had made for his mother. As she received the gift Abigail gave the boy a smile.  
"Ain't that pretty," She admired the red flowers Jack had used before looking to Arthur as he dismounted. "Ain't I the luckiest. Did you thank Uncle Arthur?"  
"No need," Arthur cut in quickly handing Jack his rod, "We had a good time." Jack took his rod and bounded away again his trip away from the camp giving him the spark he had lacked the past few weeks. Arthur lifted the hat from his head and ran a hand down his face. First the Blackwater job and now this? Pinkertons? Would they ever get away from it all? And what would Arthur Morgan do if he weren't in a gang? Farmer? Fisherman? The idea could have made him laugh if it wasn't for the thoughts that were plaguing his mind now. He sat the stetson back on his head and sighed.  
"What's wrong?"  
It was only then he realized Abigail still stood watching him, her eyes were guarded the joy of seeing Arthur and Jack had passed quicker than a summer storm.  
"Nothing," Arthur lied searching the camp for any sign of Dutch. "Just ran into some folk. I'd better go speak with Dutch."  
"Okay," Abigail said uncertainly before turning and following after Jack.  
"Hey," Arthur called after her. Abigail paused and looked around to him. "Jack's a good kid, did real find today." She gave a half-hearted smile before nodding and continuing on her way. Arthur guessed Dutch would be where he always was and made for the large tent at the center of the camp.

Arthur, with a quick glance, assessed Dutch's tent but only the man himself was within, before entering.  
"We got a problem," He growled pacing absentmindedly.  
"What?" Dutch looked up from the book in his hands, his voice a firm growl.  
"I just met some guys out near the river a feller named...erm...Milton and err...oh I don't remember the other feller's name."  
"Ross." Dutch confirmed. How did he know?  
"Milton and Ross," Arthur confirmed to himself more than anyone-he would need to remember those names. His fried nerves were getting the better of him-he had to snap together and quickly. Dutch was as cool as he ever was.  
"And?" Dutch asked.  
"And they are employees of the Pinkerton Detective Agency and they know about the train and they know we're here!" Arthur stressed.  
Dutch leaped up from his seat on his bed and stepped from the tent peering around the camp before looking back to Arthur.  
"Were you followed?"  
"No! I took a route through Valentine-they know we're near here." Arthur defended himself. He wouldn't be so stupid as to ride straight back to camp after a brush in with lawmen he thought Dutch would give him some credit..though maybe his frazzled composure made Dutch assume Arthur would forget rationality. When had he ever lost his head? That was Micah or Bill's job. "They want you Dutch," Arthur warned, "They offered me my freedom in exchange, they did."  
"Why didn't you take it?" Dutch turned to Arthur now and raised his brows. There was a serene calmness to Dutch that unsettled Arthur but he brushed it off.  
"Very funny," Arthur said sarcastically, "Well, what do we do now?"  
There was silence.  
Dutch paced a moment outside the tent, stroking his chin, running a hand through his raven colored hair. Arthur waited patiently. Dutch would know what to do, they'd been in similar situations and yet they were still free and living. The chains on Dutch's waistcoat rattled as he finally turned back to Arthur and with a relaxed expression he reached out and patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly.  
"I say we do nothing...just yet," Dutch nodded.  
Nothing?  
"They're just trying to scare us into doing something stupid."  
Though his manner was relaxed Dutch turned and eyed the camp again as if double checking there were no lawman about to spring from the bushes or storm the camp. "We have turned a corner we survived them mountains. We just need to stay calm," Dutch finished looking to Arthur.  
Of course.  
Panicking would get them nowhere now and Dutch's cool manners reassured Arthur's otherwise frayed nerves. He nodded to Dutch who gave a short smile before slowly stepping away and studying the camp again. He didn't return to his tent instead he left, no doubt to source Hosea and warn him of the current events. Arthur stood a moment allowing himself to fully cool from the events before eyeing Lux near the hitching post.

* * *

Lux's hooves drummed against the dirt, the wind blowing through the stallion's mane as it cantered along the road. Heading east across the rocky terrain of the area west of Valentine, he had just crossed the Cumberland Falls and after cantering the length of the road that ran beside the Dakota river had made his turn back east toward Valentine. The sun was fading from the sky now after he had spent the majority of the afternoon over toward Big Valley. The deer bounded across the plains, coyotes were sprinting into the undergrowth, yowling as they did while rabbits scuttled into their burrows for the oncoming night. Arthur had a passing thought whether he should check in with the Downes but he decided against it. For now at least. People were not what Arthur wanted to see right now. The long loping strides of the stallion floated easily over the terrain. Arthur still wasn't sure about this horse-it was large maybe a bit too much so. Though the grey had immense strength and presence it wouldn't prove as nimble or agile as a smaller breed...he might have to drop into the Valentine stables and see what else was available to him. As Hosea said, there was no harm in having two horses. As the sun began to drop and the heat of the day fade with it Arthur knew he'd have to return to camp, no doubt they would be looking for him.  
"Arthur!" A voice called out.  
He instantly pulled the rains of the lumbering stallion and it ground to an unsteady halt. Arthur turned his gaze around him before it fell on the pinto form of Boaz appearing through the darkness. Javier sat astride, breathless and relieved.  
"Oh, am I glad I found you," Javier panted. "Arthur they got Bill."  
That stupid- "What? Who has him?" Arthur heaved a sigh.  
"Bounty men," Javier nodded pulling Boaz up next to Lux. The Mexican's features were shadowed from the large sombrero. "I found their camp nearby, they got Bill tied up."  
"I bet he loves that," Arthur grumbled sarcastically.  
"I'm just heading to take care of it, wanna ride along with me?"  
"Sloppy Bill," Arthur shook his head and hung his head a moment.  
"Yeah..well."  
"Alright. Come on then," Arthur gathering up the rains once more as Boaz quickly turned. Boaz was small, much smaller but he was quick and the horse could turn on a dime if it wanted to. Javier nodded over his shoulder as Boaz took off down the track, kicking up dust behind him. It didn't take long for Lux to catch up.  
"So how'd you find him?" Arthur called out.  
"Remember when he said he was going hunting? Well, never came back. I was able to track them pretty easily. Brown Jack leaves a pretty noticeable trail. I thought it best we went in now before morning and the bounty hunters decide to make for Valentine and collect."  
"Guess were in their sights again-must have been those Pinkertons that gave them a lead."  
"When are we not, Arthur?"  
"Guess you're right," Arthur nodded.

The horses headed back west down the trail Arthur had just ridden before bearing down to the left trail and crossing the wooden bridge that crossed the shallow gorge.  
"What do you think Dutch will do?" Javier asked breaking the silence.  
"Ain't for me to say," Arthur shrugged, "I'm guessing Bill won't like it though."  
"He's a problem. We all know it."  
"I think the whole of Valentine knows after that mess he caused at the saloon. I still get funny looks whenever I go in there. Is that really something for me to say?"  
"I think it is, Arthur."  
"Well, let's just save his ass first. Plenty of time to worry about how to kick it later," Arthur shrugged.  
He wasn't about to go to Dutch and mention what a liability Bill was-they all knew. Javier had just said it but there was something about him that kept him around otherwise he would have been out on his ass pretty quickly. Dutch had a soft spot for Bill they all did, deep down. Irritating though he may have been he did have his uses and he was beyond loyal what more did you need in a man in a time when everyone was your enemy?

Boaz and Lux swiftly made their way along the bank of the river.  
"Okay, we're getting close," Javier said his tone hushed now.  
They slowed their pace.  
Arthur could just about make out the sight of the campfire through the tall trees that dotted the bank of the river. A small camp was set up, a few tents, some horses hitched and the familiar form of Brown Jack among them. A wagon was to one side that could provide some helpful cover if needed. Without a word, both Arthur and Javier brought their horses off the road, rode a number of feet into the undergrowth a small distance from the camp and dismounted silently. Arthur made sure to pluck the repeater from the holster on his saddle before turning and picking his way through the dark. Javier followed behind, his revolver free of its holster. They crept forward before Arthur dropped low and crouched looking to Javier. He gestured to a small rock to the left of the camp before gesturing to himself and the wagon on the right. Javier nodded. Both men split from each other to the positions. Arthur clutched the rifle firmly as he stayed low and crept forward. They had one shot at this and guessing by the number of horses there were four bounty hunters. Arthur could make out a struggling Bill on his knees, arms fastened to a post over his head near the fire.  
"Hey! You idiots ever hear of Dutch's boys? You're gonna pay for this," Bill's voice was calling to the bounty hunters. As Arthur crept closer and finally took cover behind the way he lay on his stomach and looked under it to the camp in front of him. A few meters away two of the bounty hunters were sat at the fire, one had a shotgun resting on his lap, the other was skinning a rabbit. There were two tents and Arthur deduced that there were either two bounty hunters in it or they were elsewhere. He cast his eyes toward Javier's position to see the Mexican finally setting himself behind the rock.  
"You have no idea what hell is coming your way," Bill continued grunting and battling the rope that kept him fixed to the post. If he wasn't careful the bounty hunters might hand him in dead rather than alive to the sheriff.  
"We're shaking in our boots," The man with the shotgun said mockingly throwing a rock at Bill. The rock hit Bill squarely in the jaw, silencing Williamson for now. "Idiot." The man laughed. The man skinning a rabbit chuckled too along with someone from in the tent.  
Three? Was there really only three for four horses?  
The man who had just emerged from the tent stretched before sighing.  
"I'm bored of listening to this son of a bitch," He moaned.  
Arthur felt his pain. Still, he didn't want to make a move until he was sure where the fourth man was.  
He spied Javier looking toward him awaiting a signal wondering what the holdup was. Arthur slowly rose off the ground back into a crouch and edged around the wagon.  
He froze.  
He'd found the fourth man. He was on the opposite side of the tree taking a piss. He pressed himself against the wood and held his breath. Good thing it was such a wide tree. As silently as he could he set the rifle down and moved a hand to the knife in his belt slowly edging the blade from the leather. The man on the opposite side of the tree belched loudly as he continued to relieve his bladder. Arthur spied the piss leaking around the tree and running against his boot.  
That was it.  
Rising to his feet he waited until he could hear the man beginning to fastening his trousers before making his move. Swinging around the tree he clapped a hand over the man's mouth before he could get a word out and without hesitation twisted and plunged the knife down into the man's gullet. Blood squeezed around the edges of the knife and the man attempted to grapple Arthur. It was a fruitless attempt and Arthur carefully lowered the man to his knees as his struggle grew weaker and weaker. Finally, the fight was ceased. Arthur quickly ripped the knife free of the man's throat and wiped it swiftly in the grass before rounding the tree and collecting his rifle.  
If gunfire could be avoided he'd avoid it.  
Less risk that way.  
He returned now to the wagon and ducked low behind one of the wheels. Three left.  
"Don't worry Bill, it won't be long before you're all tucked up in a nice, warm cell. Then you can talk all you want," One of the bounty hunters said to Bill before there was a meaty smack. Bill cursed and growled.  
"You son of a bitch!" Bill growled.  
"Cut it out Foreman, go check the horses. Where the hell is Smith anyway?"  
Smith was dead.  
Foreman wasn't going to be long following him. The man who had emerged from the tent grumbled rubbing at his bloodied knuckles from where he'd just hit Bill before skulking toward the horses. Javier took the hint and moved after him. That would leave only the other two. This had gone smoothly. Arthur watched the horses. It was dark now and it was hard to make out much but there was a small scuffle from, what must have been, Javier taking down Foreman. Arthur didn't have to wait long until he saw the small form of Javier return behind the rock.  
Now Arthur made his final move. Standing tall he stepped out from behind the wagon and approached the campfire, slinging the rifle over a shoulder.  
"Howdy gents," He announced loudly. Both bounty hunters turned and stared at him, the one with the shotgun quickly scooped the gun off his lap and held it firm.  
"What you want?" Shotgun hunter said.  
"I ain't looking for trouble, friend," Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he neared the fire. The smell of the cooking rabbit was actually pretty good, the charred scent of pine wood and burnt tobacco lingering in the air. "I was just passing by and thought I'd offer you, boys, a bit of advice about your bounty there," He gestured to Bill.  
"This is our bounty, _friend._ So if you don't mind I'm gonna ask you to be on your way unless you can give me a good reason not to put a shell in you right now," The bounty hunter growled rising off his seat now and taking a step toward Arthur.  
"I ain't a toy you dumb shits!" Bill grumbled.  
Arthur noted Javier creeping forward toward the other bounty hunter who was too busy watching Arthur to notice the Mexican creeping up on him.  
"Well, you see," Arthur muttered tactfully stepping to the right and allowing Javier a better shot at the other man while slipping his own hand around to his knife once more before closing the distance between himself and shotgun hunter in front of him leaving only two feet between them. "You idiots ever hear of Dutch's boys?"

Realization dawned in the bounty hunters eyes just as Javier pounced on the first bounty hunter and a knife silenced him. Swiftly Arthur knocked the barrel of the shotgun toward the floor before a shot could be made and pulled his knife free raking it across the man's throat. As Javier finished with the other there was a chilled silence filled only with the crackling of the fire and the gagging of the man at Arthur's feet and Bill's laughing.  
"Just in time," Bill cackled.  
Arthur stepped over the body at his feet and made for Bill while Javier searched the camp for anything of value. Using the bloodied knife to cut away the bindings at Bill's wrist Arthur stepped back and surveyed the bounty hunters camp. Not much. Bill gave a sigh of relief as he rubbed at his chaffed wrists.  
"I owe you fellers for this," He praised rising to his feet.  
"Damn right you do," Arthur growled over his shoulder.  
"Well, I'm gonna head back to camp. Find a bottle and nurse these bruises," Bill scratched at the back of his neck at Arthur's tone. It would be up to someone else now to find something to feed the camp then. Next time Bill said he was going hunting Arthur would personally stop him.  
"Not right now you're not," Arthur pointed out. "Need to clean this mess up first."

They had let the horses loose, put two bodies in the wagon and the others in the tent before setting both alight. A mess was made of the camp and if anyone passed they would say it was pillaged and with any luck blame it on the O'Driscoll boys. Once the mess was attended too the three headed back to camp quickly before anyone else came along.

* * *

After much thought, Arthur had opted to purchase another horse. Using the money he'd garnered from a recent home robbery he and Javier had carried out he had chosen a slightly smaller though swift American Standardbred, buckskin in color with a glorious mane and tail of silver. Already he could feel the difference in the beast, it was smaller, not by much, then Lux but was certainly a lot more agile. That would come in use in the future. After spending a number of days settling the animal and getting used to it, it had been mentioned to Arthur by Karen that John was awaiting him in Valentine.

After searching the main town and turning up nothing Arthur headed down to the livestock side of town and sure enough, he noted Marston watching some sheep with seemingly great interest. Arthur rained Achilles closer to the man before throwing his leg over the front of the saddle.  
"So...feeling better then?" Arthur took a step closer to the newly scarred Marston and took a peek at the wound. Well, it didn't make him uglier. "How's the scar?"  
"I heal pretty fast," John kept his eyes on the sheep at Arthur's arrival and approach. The younger man probably thought if he looked Arthur in the eye Arthur would scold him...again. Which might have been true if Arthur hadn't grown intrigued as to why John seemed obsessed with sheep all of a sudden.  
"Lucky you," Arthur mumbled. Arthur didn't have many noticeable scars luckily. He had been in some pretty good scraps and some bad fights but nothing really of worth, the small pair on his chin was from a brawl back in a town called Hooker. The other knick that littered his face was the graze on his left cheek when a bullet had almost taken his eye. That had been a bad day. Tired of musing on his thoughts he cast a look back to John.  
He was silent still.  
"So you just lazing about...or you got any leads?"  
John decided to look at Arthur, brief though it may have been. Finally, John pushed himself off the stacked crates he'd been leaning on and nodded slowly.  
"I got something." John turned his attention back toward the sheep. "You see them?"  
"Sure." An amusing thought crossed Arthur's mind. "What you see yourself as a shepherd now?" He grunted with a laugh.  
There was a moment's silence before John cast him a glance and scowled.  
"Maybe," He shrugged before turning and striding away. "Come on."  
It was Arthur's turn to scowl now. He turned and watched Marston striding away before reaching out and snatching hold of Achilles' rains and following after him.  
"Well, where exactly are we going?"  
"Collect something, help us get some sheep," John said over his shoulder.  
No.  
This wasn't working for John.  
"That attempt to seem all enigmatic and interesting that might work for Dutch but you? It just makes you look stupid," Arthur shook his head as the buckskin followed after him. The sun bounced off the stallion's coat making it gleam like a gold bar...if only they had a handful of them they could get the hell out of here to the prosperous land Dutch foresaw in their future.  
"Just come on," John sighed, "That train job was a start, but we need more money. Until we get back to Blackwater and collect, that is."  
"Keep your voice down Marston," Arthur hissed as he drew level with John and they both made their way away from the livestock sheds back toward the main single street of Valentine.

It was a livestock town sure but that didn't mean the people were stupid. An overheard conversation would see John and Arthur in a predicament they didn't want to be in and one they needed to avoid at every cost. Bill had been stupid enough and it was only luck that Javier had tracked them back to their camp. It couldn't happen again.  
"Nice horse, by the way," John nodded to Achilles.  
"Yeah, well. That Polish fellers was more like a cart horse than anything else-anyway I'll tell you this. We try to go back and collect on that money any time soon it'll come with a noose." Arthur warned.  
John nodded, "I was worried you'd say that. Dutch says that we-"  
"Dutch says a lot. Now that's his gift...saying things," Arthur growled. John paused in his stride and turned to look at Arthur. Arthur tried to avoid John's gaze. He could see the doubt and questioning that etched every line on Marston's face and he regretted saying anything. He didn't even know where it had come from. Dutch had always been good at saying things, making people believe in him or an ideal that they had chased recklessly across America but there was a spreading doubt in his mind and it had started with the murder of that girl on the boat. Heidi McCourt Trelawny had called her. It was all over Dutch had murdered her-shot her in the head. Why? That wasn't like him and there was a glint in Dutch's eye every time he mentioned the word 'money'. Greed that was growing and Arthur had never seen before.  
It wasn't about the money it was about living.  
"Oh yeah?" John said slowly drawing Arthur's attention back to him, "What do you mean by that?"  
"I was the prize pony once," Arthur quickly answered turning and beginning down the street now, John following. "Now I'm the workhorse. Listen. Dutch is...but...but...well, you was at that thing in Blackwater. Now Pinkertons are here. New century is coming. This life, this way? Well, we're the last I reckon. And we ain't long for it."  
John shrugged, "Then that's the way it goes, I guess."  
"For me, yes." Arthur nodded. Achilles snorted and shook out the long silver mane as they approached Valentine's main street. Arthur spied Old Boy hitched outside the Sheriff's the big hulking beast dwarfed the small morgan hitched next to it. There was a silence as they continued toward John's horse before Marston muttered; 'Alright.'  
"So where we going?" Arthur asked breaking the silence as a wagon rolled by.  
"Just need to pick up something," John replied as they neared Old Boy.  
Reaching the horse John and Arthur finally mounted up. Turning the horses they began out of town heading for the plains that lay just outside Valentine.

"Why you being so cagey about all of this?" Arthur asked as they passed over the train tracks and headed away from town. "Always playing some goddamn game."  
"Me?" John said aghast before a look of irritation crossed his face, "I ain't the one taking Jack on fishing trips!" John growled.  
"No, you ain't," Arthur returned. He wouldn't be blamed for helping the boy when Abigail had requested it. How many times did she ask John? She never did because she knew John wouldn't see it through. "If you say the boy ain't yours, what's the difference? You'll probably only run off again." Arthur shook his head disappointedly. It was just a damn shame. They had the makings of a proper family but John couldn't see it. Arthur would give anything to have had his family given back to him but they were snatched away-he thought again that it would be Mary to tame him but if it weren't for her loyalty to her family he'd have snatched her away and gone far away. That was saying something.  
"Why are you so interested in my life?" John called over his shoulder as they took the road passing Citadel Rock. "Ain't you got one of your own?" He was getting defensive now-same thing. Every time.  
"Just do one thing or another, not be two people at once, that's all I'm saying," Arthur sighed. Surprisingly Achilles wasn't left behind by Old Boy's long strides-he was keeping pace easily, maybe Arthur had made the right decision in the end. Arthur wasn't in the mood to deal with John's issues.  
"It ain't that simple, you know that as well as anyone," John defended again. Why had Arthur even said anything? In fact no he hadn't. John had brought it up. Arthur's fishing with Jack had clearly irritated him that at least told Arthur something. "Same as you and that girl, what was her name? Mary?"  
Bringing up Mary again.  
Seemed Arthur should have kept riding past Valentine-old wounds wouldn't have been brought to the surface if he had.  
"That was different," Arthur pointed out.  
"No it ain't!" John growled. "Just the same."  
"Anyway, for the love of God, will you tell me what we're doing here before I turn around and hit the breeze?" Arthur snapped finally. He wouldn't be told how to live his life by John. Of all the people and nerve. John silenced himself and they rode in silence for a moment before Marston shook his head and looked ahead over the plains.  
"There's a herd of sheep coming down to auction from Emerald Ranch. Folk in town were saying the owner's trying to stamp out every farm from here to Annesburg."  
"Yeah I know that place," Arthur nodded. That was it? That was the plan? To rustle sheep? Arthur wished he'd stayed at camp. Couldn't Lenny have done this or something? The boy hadn't done much since Downes always complaining he didn't feel too well. Probably just picked up Hosea's cough that had been hounding the old man for months.

As they made their way past the shade of Twin Stack John had directed them up onto a ridge near the the right Stack.  
"So I'm thinking," John mused as they ascended up the bank.  
"That ain't good," Arthur mumbled.  
"The herd will make it to auction alright but a couple of new ranch hands will be collecting on the sale," John attempted a smile but quickly regretted it when the scars on his cheek pulled. "Doubt the town will care to notice."

The horses slowed their pace as they edged out onto an outcropping of the ridge. Arthur spied the Oil feel in the distance, a flock of Canada goose squawked as the flapped overhead through the blue clouded sky. He could make out a number of wagons on the trails below.  
"This is as good a spot as any," John nodded swinging down from Old Boy and creeping further out onto the outcrop. Arthur remained seated on Achilles for the moment as he watched Marston.  
A moment passed in silence as John peered through a pair of binoculars.  
"See anything?" Arthur asked after another long moment passed. John didn't answer. "You sure you got the right day?"  
"Shut up," John growled. Arthur heaved a sigh and adjusted his seat on his stallion. "Why don't you grab that sniper off my saddle and do something useful."  
Arthur swung himself down and approached John's horse grabbing the rifle off the saddle before moving forward toward John and crouching low next to him. Using the scope of the rifle he peered through and looked down at the trails below.  
"Why the heavy artillery?" Arthur asked continuing to survey the roads below.  
"Well, I figure we use that gun put a shot or two in near the ranch hands and they'll hightail it. Then all we'll need to do is round up the sheep and take them to town."  
"Sheep hustlers. Who'd have thought," Arthur rolled his eyes.  
"You got any other jobs waiting?"  
"No."  
"This will pay off, I guarantee it."  
"The only thing you'll guarantee is putting me to sleep out here," Arthur grunted again.

They sat in silence for a long moment. After checking his watch Arthur realized they'd been waiting almost an hour before John finally piped up.  
"Okay, I think that's them over there," John's tone had a bit more excitement that Arthur cared to admit. He lazily turned the rifle along the roads in the direction John pointed and through the scope, he saw a small flock of sheep being escorted by three ranch hands. The flock was small, much smaller then Arthur had anticipated. Maybe 15 in size?  
"Put a shot in near them," John nodded.  
"Me? This is your gun, why don't you do it?"  
"Don't make me say it..."  
"Say what?" Arthur was grinning now.  
"Arthur."  
"Say what?"  
"I can't use a rifle right now," John quickly used the excuse before focusing on his binoculars.  
"Nah, I'm just a better shot is all," Arthur praised himself before lining up the rifle, taking aim at the ground nearest the front ranch hand. He inhaled deeply as he made a number of adjustments keeping in mind the breeze and distance before sliding his fingers down to the trigger.  
"Don't hit any of the sheep," John warned.  
"Oh I'm sorry, Marston, I thought this was target practice," Arthur replied before taking the shot. The shot rang out across the plains with a crack as the bullet was sent barrelling through the air. As he studied the scene that played out in the valley below Arthur chuckled as one of the ranch hands horses reared and spun, bolting away with the man scrabbling on top of the creature. One of the other horses sprinted away in an opposing direction before circling back around to the ranch on the east side of the valley. The third man, however, didn't run away, in fact, Arthur could just about make out the man drawing a rifle.  
"That feller don't scare too easy," Arthur noted lining up another shot. The sheep, by now, were scattering. It would be one hell of a job to round the bastards up. Arthur wasn't looking forward to that. With a pull of the trigger, another bullet went tearing through the air down into the valley. Arthur watched through the scope as the third man finally turned his horse and bolted back for the ranch.  
"That'll do it," John nodded. "Let's go round them up."  
Arthur lowered the rifle now and looked to John. "You ever worked on a ranch, Marston?"  
"No," John said flatly, "You?"  
"A day or two here and there."  
"Most cowboy's I know are as dumb as tree. How hard can it be?" John shrugged looking back toward the sheep scattered across the valley.  
"I guess we're about to find out," Arthur sighed standing up and retreating back to Achilles. How hard could it be?

Very.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

* * *

Arthur swung down from the silver-maned buckskin and grumbled again.  
What a joke.  
That auctioneer had been more crooked than the gang! Hell, even an O'Driscoll would be more straight shooting...that might have been a bit of a stretch. 18%? Arthur hitched Achilles before casting a look to John who shrugged again-he still maintained it had been a good deal. Sure. Both turned and made their way into Keane's Saloon where Dutch was awaiting them.  
"Come on Sunshine," Marston teased, "I'll buy you a whiskey."  
"Don't think you're old enough," Arthur retorted as they stepped onto the porch of the saloon.  
From inside they could hear voices. The voice was unmistakably Austrian and Arthur would know it anywhere.

"Not everything but, in the end, I don't believe in absolutes, just shades of grey."  
Keane's was quite the bit smaller, though not as smelly as, Smithfield's most likely because there was less people inside. The scent of the auction however seemed to drift inside the cracked open windows and doorway. What was worse the smell of sheep or smelly cowboy's? The former probably but it was probably this reason that no one hung around here. Inside there was a total of five people, not including John and Arthur who had just arrived. Two older men sat at a table just by the door, looked like Uncle's calibre of men, the barman was polishing a glass behind the bar nodding to the new arrivals and Dutch and Strauss sat at a table in the left hand corner near the window.  
"Compromises," Strauss said again.  
What was he talking about? Dutch looked about ready to strangle the man. Arthur would gladly oblige if asked. As Arthur and John approached both Dutch and Strauss spun in their seats to face them. Dutch looked relieved.  
"Gentlemen," Strauss nodded.  
"Dutch, Leopold," Arthur gave a loose two-finger salute to them both.  
"Where have you been?" Dutch asked fixing his gaze on Arthur. He was annoyed.  
"Working," Arthur said quickly before gesturing to the younger man next to him, "Marston's thing."  
Dutch's expression softened now, somewhat, like the mention of working and money was what Dutch wanted to hear. "Good. And?" Dutch asked.  
"We're just waiting to get some pay on..." Arthur looked at John. "A few sheep."  
It would never happen again. Troublesome bastards.  
"Leopold, my good friend," Dutch turned his attention to the Austrian, "As long as you're here why don't you and John go make sure there ain't no funny business."  
"Of course," Strauss said promptly standing and marching from the saloon giving no one a second glance. John gave a sigh before turning to follow leaving Arthur alone with Dutch.  
"Drink?" Dutch offered.  
"Sure, if you're buying" Arthur nodded taking the now vacant seat at the table. Dutch chuckled before nodding to the barkeep.  
"Nothing like talking to old Strauss to make you want to blow your own brains out." Dutch rubbed at his temples with a hand and shut his eyes a moment trying to soothe himself. The barkeep brought another bottle from behind the counter and handed it to Dutch exchanging it for money before returning to his post again. Arthur laughed.  
"I should have left him where I found him all those years ago," Dutch pulled the top off the bottle, "Bookish little Austrian fresh off the boat, eyes on stalks."  
"Well, I guess the Dutch van der Linde finishing school has some strange graduates." Arthur shrugged as Dutch poured him a half glass of whiskey and turning to his own.  
"Heard about Bill," Dutch nodded.  
"Yeah-but its dealt with now and no one's going be to hearing from them bounty hunters anytime soon," Arthur pointed out. Dutch eyed him a moment.  
"So you don't think he's a problem?"  
"Don't much matter what I think, Dutch. It's your call and you know I'll back you whatever your decision you know that."  
Dutch grinned, "I know I made the right decision all those years back."  
"What starting a gang of degenerates?"  
"Filthy degenerates," Dutch corrected Arthur with a laugh, "But we ain't just a gang, Arthur. We're a family. How many families do you know that would protect each other as loyally as we protect each other? Bill...well...he's like the drunk uncle."  
"We already got a useless Uncle," Arthur pointed out.  
They shared a laugh.  
"Don't worry, Mrs. Grimshaw is on that man's tail. No more sitting about. He knows that."  
"Does he?" Arthur cocked a brow.  
"You seem more cynical than usual," Dutch frowned.  
"Nah," Arthur shook his head swirling the whiskey in his glass.  
"Wouldn't have nothing to do with that Mary...would it?"  
Arthur looked up and scowled. "Why would I care?"  
"I know you were sweet on her, Mary-Beth mentioned she was in town."  
"She _was_ in town."  
"Ah...well, Arthur on the bright side we'll all be able to start a new life soon. I promise you that," Dutch nodded. Quickly changing the mood Dutch raised his glass. "To your good health, son."  
"Thank you," Arthur nodded before they clinked glasses together, clapped them on the table and took a swig of the whiskey. The amber liquid was smooth and first, the sweetness would hit but as it poured down Arthur's throat the smoke of the charred oak it had been stored in erupted onto his palate. Not a bad whiskey at all. No sooner had both Dutch and Arthur swallowed their drinks then a voice shouted from outside.

"Van der Linde!" The voice roared, a pretentious demand. Dutch's eyes instantly looked to the window he sat opposite and, though surprised he didn't allow it show. Arthur twisted in his seat and frowned. "Get out here!" The voice called again. "Get out here now!"  
Arthur shot a look to Dutch who remained unmoved.  
"What the hell?" Arthur kept his eyes on Dutch. Twisting out of the seat Arthur moved to the edge of the window. The commotion was causing the other people in the bar to turn and scowl. The barkeep was on edge now he was dying to ask Dutch and Arthur to leave but at the same time, he didn't dare. As Arthur pressed himself against the wall he looked out to see two men outside on horses. One a hired gun, by the looks, the other a tall slim man with a greying beard and balding head. Impeccably dressed in a pressed tailored suit as he sat atop a tall bay leisure horse.  
"You don't know me but you keep robbing me." The man in grey shouted, so he was the one causing all the commotion. As he continued to make a ruckus more hired guns appeared, three in total positioning themselves and aiming their rifles toward the saloon. "My name is Leviticus Cornwall," The man finally announced. So this was Cornwall. Pompous ass by the looks. How had he found them? "I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you. Get our here, before I have these men killed!"  
Arthur's heart skipped a beat and he cast a look back toward Dutch. More hired guns appeared hauling with them a wide eyed Strauss and irritated John. John put up a fight at least, Strauss let himself be dragged easily by one man it was taking three to restrain John. Arthur smirked slightly. Good job, Marston. John's fight was ceased however when one of the thugs crashed a fist against John's scars making him yelp in pain and drop to his knees. Shit.  
"What do you think?" Dutch asked from behind Arthur.  
"Get out here you depraved piece of trash!" Cornwall bellowed again.  
"Well..." Arthur quickly ran through various scenarios in his mind. What would be best. Six men and Cornwall. All could end up badly. Priority now was John and Strauss. "You start spinning a yarn and..." Arthur quickly nodded to Dutch there was a familiar click of rifles outside. Arthur paused and glanced back out the window to see guns cocked at John and Strauss' head. "When I think the moment's right I'll make a move." Arthur nodded turning back to Dutch.  
"You think I got where I am by letting scum like you rob from me?" Cornwall roared again, the whole of Valentine would be alerted to what was going on by now and that wouldn't bode well for their lying low. Dutch watched Arthur before a wry grin crossed Dutch's lips as he reached out and snatched the whiskey bottle off the table and taking a long swig from the bottle directly. The barkeep by now had ducked behind his counter, the two old creatures at the table across the room had ducked down underneath their table.  
"Why not," Dutch nodded. He'd have every confidence in Arthur and Arthur knew that.  
"Van der Linde, you're done!" Cornwall called out again. "Now get out here now!"  
Dutch placed the whiskey bottle down and turned, shoulders squared and head held high before striding toward the open saloon door. Arthur, keeping low following after him but before they had even set foot outside Cornwall had given an order and vanished back toward the train station. The law would be here soon and no doubt Cornwall didn't want to be found near the scene. That snake.

Dutch stepped outside arms raised defensively, Arthur following.  
"Please, gentlemen, this is a terrible mistake," Dutch began his yarn.  
Arthur's eyes set on Strauss and John, briefly surveyed the surrounds checking for anymore men before counting the ones he could see and deducing their firearms and what their draw was. Most all right handed, four with rifles three with pistols. With a gun trained on John's brow and another at Strauss' neck, things could turn nasty quick.  
"This is a case..." Dutch continued, "Of mistaken identity."  
Valentine was deserted. Arthur spied people peering out from behind curtains, shielding themselves where they could knowing what was about to happen. There was no cover on the porch so Arthur had to be quick and place his shots well and, truth be told, he'd rather be in the position he was then either John or Strauss.  
"What is worse..." Dutch said, "Than admonishing a man for the sins of another? Who wants to be the messiah?"  
Arthur had to hand it to Dutch he could certainly appeal to anyone in any situation.  
"Not me." Dutch finished.

Arthur's hand moved to his holster now and quickly he drew the volcanic from its holster and positioned it on his hip before taking careful aim. A quick hail of bullets was sent forth, two hitting the men that held John and another boring a hole through the hired gun with an arm around Strauss. Once the grip on him was released John threw himself back, rolling in the muddy road and snatching a pistol off one of the thugs before firing at one of the rifle men. Dutch drew his own matching pistols and took aim at two men and fired before Arthur turned attention to the last remaining rifleman and firing. The gunshots silenced but Arthur guessed that with the Sheriff's office less than a few hundred feet away there would be swift repercussions.  
"John, Strauss you okay?" Dutch called as he holster one of his pistols and turned patting Arthur's shoulder, "Fine job." He turned striding down the steps of the saloon now.  
"Fine," John nodded rising out of the dirt holding his face as if it would fall apart. Blood was leaking from the still fresh wounds.  
"Good God!" Strauss cried in horror.  
"Pull yourself together Mr. Strauss. We have to leave, quickly," Dutch ordered. "Arthur, John, our horses are on the other side of town," Dutch noted.

"Marston, grab the horses and get them out of here, meet us at the stables," Arthur nodded. Nursing his newly opened bleeding scars John nodded turning and darting for Old Boy and Achilles throwing himself atop his steed before snatching at Achilles rains. Old Boy spun on his hocks and bolted, Achilles in tow. Arthur gestured for Dutch to head for the track that lead behind the gunsmiths.  
"The law'll be along soon," Arthur bolted for the worn track that led behind the houses. Dutch and Strauss following. The moved quickly and Arthur could make out The Count stood dozing near the gallows.  
SNAP!  
The sound of a bullet ricocheted through the air followed by the pained grunt of Strauss. Arthur and Dutch slid to a halt and spun to see the Austrian face down in the dirt clutching at his leg.  
"Dutch!" Arthur called out.  
"I got you covered, go get him," Dutch responded lifting his pistols and searching the area. Arthur holstered his pistol and darted forward, without hesitation. He slid to a halt next to Strauss. Shot in the leg, entry hole from the right. Arthur took a quick glance around the area and saw a lawman stood on the top of a stairs at the side of the J.W. Smith and A.J. Mackey building.  
"Dutch stairs! Arthur roared.  
SNAP!  
A bullet hit the mud beside Arthur before a returning shot sounded and Dutch roared at them. Grabbing a hold of Strauss Arthur heaved the man onto his shoulder and struggling forward. Strauss whined as he dragged his leg.  
"This is madness!" He squealed.  
"It's just a scratch, shut up!" Arthur growled.  
"You're on the front line now, Mr. Strauss," Dutch called waiting for Arthur to pass him. Dutch followed them keeping his pistols raised. They passed swiftly behind the bank and Saints Hotel before more gunshots rang out.  
"Looks like the law," Arthur struggled forward with Strauss.  
"Not so tough now are you, Cornwall," Dutch grumbled as he caught pace. More bullets rang out from Dutch's pistols as more lawmen began to appear. Arthur wasn't sure taking down the entirety of Valentine's sheriff's was necessary. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed Dutch had killed three more men before following them.

The Count awaited them near the Gallows, agitated by the gunfire along with one of the draft horses they used to pull the wagons. Arthur hauled Strauss to the draft and heaved the man into the saddle once the Austrian was astride Arthur turned and drew his pistol as another bullet ricocheted off the ground.  
"No Arthur," Dutch called mounting The Count, "We have to go."  
Nodding Arthur re-holstered the weapon just as John arrived with Achilles. Dutch spurred his horse forward, Strauss swiftly following and John bringing up the rear. Without stopping Marston brought Achilles close to Arthur allowing him to vault onto the horse and clamber aboard. Good thing the Standardbred was smaller or Arthur wouldn't have been nimble enough to climb on top of Lux. They took off toward Citadel Rock before looping back around toward Caliban's Seat and once they were sure they had shook the law they returned to camp.

* * *

It had been a tense few days.  
Dutch had ordered the gang to lie low and everyone did just that. The only time someone left was to make a supply run to the general store in Valentine, usually one of the girls, they were less likely to be recognized, or go hunting and after last time it was usually either Arthur, Charles, Javier or Lenny. Arthur rested back against one of the trees and heaved a sigh allowing the smoke to drift from his lips into the blue sky above. The stetson was tipped over his face, with the camp on lockdown there wasn't much for him to do.  
"Slacking again, Cowpoke?"  
"What do you want, Micah?" Arthur didn't even look up or acknowledge the presence of the man. He could tell Micah was on his right but apart from that he didn't care.  
"Oh I'm sorry, did I disturb your beauty rest?"  
"Why you always trying to get a rise out of people?"  
"I ain't trying to get a rise out of you, I just saw you sleeping and thought you should get to work and do something useful like-"  
"You say 'like the rest of us' so help me I will hit you. What are you doing that I ain't, huh?" Arthur snapped quickly before taking another slow pull on the cigarette perched in his gloved hand. There was a grumble from Micah before he snarled.  
"Forget it. Waste of my time," Micah's retreating footsteps sounded a moment later. Inhaling deeply on the smoke in his lungs Arthur expelled it through his nostrils before sighing with relief. That pest. He must have been going around from every gang member around the camp seeing if he could instigate something. Didn't seem anyone was biting.

Peeking from beneath the peak of his hat Arthur spied Mrs. Adler sat on a rock not far from him. She was downtrodden as usual but she appeared to have at least brushed her hair that morning and put it in a braid over one shoulder. Her eyes were shadowed a strange shade of purple from lack of sleep and her lips were in a constant downward curve. Arthur could only imagine how she felt. He had felt something much the same...once...way back. Taking a last pull on the cigarette he overheard Micah and Sean talking now. That would be interesting. He kept an ear on them, wondering how it would play out. From his other ear he heard coughing. It wasn't Hosea.  
"That don't sound too good," Abigail noted. Arthur pushed the peak of his hat up now and cast a glance to his left to see Abigail stood over Lenny, their voices hushed. What was going on there?  
"It's nothing," Lenny shrugged. "Probably just a cold from them mountains."  
"We've been out of the mountains a while now," Abigail seemed unconvinced.  
"Don't worry about it," Lenny was getting defensive now.  
"At least-"  
"Abigail. Drop it." Lenny grumbled standing up and marching toward the campfire where a dozing Uncle sat.  
"What's going on there?" Arthur asked pushing his hat up fully and taking a last puff before tossing away the used cigarette. Abigail pondered a moment rolling the sleeves of her shirt before shaking her head.  
"Nothing," She lied before quickly busying herself elsewhere.  
Right.  
Seemed everyone was getting a bit of cabin fever.  
"You seem to have something on your mind, _compadre_," Javier's voice sounded next to Arthur.  
"Yeah? When don't I? I ain't Bill."  
"Fair point," Javier laughed taking a seat on the grass next to Arthur.  
"Don't tell me you're going crazy too?"  
"Me? No," Javier snorted, "Just wishing we had that house to rob now-would give us an excuse to get out of here."  
"Yeah...those hillbillies were not as frightening as they thought they were."  
"Good score though."  
"Hmm," Arthur nodded. "Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure."  
"What happened, Javier? What happened on that boat?" Arthur turned and faced Javier now. He needed to know he'd been given a brief outline by most of the men that had taken part of the heist but no one seemed want to give anything more then what had been said. It was like some pact had been formed to not say anything more. Javier shifted in his seat and shrugged.  
"I told you before-"  
"Nah. You didn't. Tell me what happened. Do you think it was a set up? From what I hear the Pinkertons arrived pretty quickly-you think someone let it slip?"  
"It's hard to say, out of everyone there...I don't know if someone would. Davey and Mac are dead. Jenny too. John was shot. Every one of us is loyal to this gang, it would have been a great take. Why spoil it?"  
"Someone's got to have talked Javier. You know it and I know it. And Dutch? Killing that girl? That ain't right. Certainly not like Dutch."  
"That poor girl, she didn't even know what was happening before she got a bullet in the head." Javier cast his eyes down now. Arthur sat back against the tree and sighed again. "It all happened so fast. I saw the newspapers. 37 dead in all-they're calling it the Blackwater Massacre now."  
"That ain't good," Arthur shook his head.  
"Nope," Javier agreed, "And now with the whole thing in Valentine and Cornwall? We're lucky we haven't been spotted yet."  
"Maybe we should have stayed in those mountains," Arthur mused lifting his head and looking to the snow-covered peaks in the distance.  
"I wasn't made to survive in the snow," Javier smiled. "Besides there's nothing up there but bears and wolves."  
"Well..." Arthur racked his brain but came up a blank, "Sure. Bears and wolves. Least the Pinkertons don't bite I suppose."  
"Let's get Bill to find out," Javier teased.  
They both laughed.  
"So...we keep heading east. Is that the plan?" Hosea's raised voice sounded from Dutch's tent. Javier and Arthur exchanged a glance.  
"For now," Dutch responded.  
"And when do we stop? When we get to Paris?" Hosea's voice raised again.  
"Oh that'd be nice, join the Commune?" Dutch said coolly.  
"Excuse me," Arthur muttered to Javier before rising from his seat and approaching the tent.

As Arthur stepped into the tent he saw Dutch sat on the cot against the right hand wall, Hosea was sat in a chair his body slumped forward and his shoulders sagging.  
"We stop when we find someplace sensible," Dutch pointed out with a small smile. "Shake them that's following us and lie low."  
Neither seemed to have noticed Arthur's arrival and he now felt like a child that had walked in on its quarrelling parents. Hosea looked up now.  
"This is lying low?" He was angry, frustrated. "We've turned into a bunch of killers, I mean it. We ain't even got the delusion of being anything but a bunch of killers."  
"We are just trying to survive, Hosea. We don't have a choice," Dutch responded placing a cigar in his mouth and taking a pull of it, scratching at his brow. Arthur could deduce enough from the conversation and finally decided to speak.  
"We moving?" He frowned.  
Dutch looked to him now and nodded, "This'll end soon."  
Hosea stood up from his seat and began to leave the tent. He paused mid-step and looked around to Dutch, eyes narrowed, tone raised and body about to boil from rage.  
"Damn right it will!" With that Hosea stormed from the tent back into the camp. Arthur had to skip to the side to allow the old man to storm past before looking around to Dutch.  
"Constipated as usual," Dutch shook his head. "Micah told me of a place we can lie low." Dutch continued focusing back on the map in front of him. "Place called Dewberry Creek."  
Arthur leant forward and peered at the map briefly before nodding, "Okay..." He looked back out to the camp where everyone was comfortable and happy. "Do they know about this?" He gestured out into the camp. No one seemed aware they were about to uproot again.  
"I need to make sure we have somewhere to go before worrying folk," Dutch said before looking back down to the map. "You and Charles go take a look clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in looking so conspicuous."  
Was this really happening? Again? Moving everything and everyone? To some creek?  
"How we gonna do that?" Arthur scowled.  
"I don't know," Dutch frowned now as if someone else was supposed to possess the answer. "Start dancing?" Sarcasm didn't become Dutch in the slightest.  
"Great. So I've turned into the goddamn errand boy," Arthur snorted before turning stepping out of the tent.  
"You have turned into my son," Dutch protested but it didn't stop Arthur from his current course toward the horses. "You worry because I worry. We are just the same." Dutch called out but Arthur continued on ignoring the statements.

* * *

It hadn't taken long to locate Charles in the camp and as soon as he had the pair had tacked their horses and took off toward the plains. Arthur felt the breeze cooling his face as they trekked forward. A gathering of deer's watched them pass while a wagon trundled a number of feet ahead. Why was Arthur disappointed? He had actually grown to like this place, the entire area in fact. There was something quaint about it, the plains were abundant with animals, the river not far for fishing, the plains themselves ideal for farming and, even though they had plenty of trouble from it, Valentine was his kind of town. Why exactly did that all matter to him? It was John who apparently wanted to settle down and start a sheep farm not him. At this rate the only thing he was riding toward was a quick shallow grave. Charles had remained silent as they had ridden from the came to only speaking if Arthur offered it first. He was a good man and Arthur had grown close to him since his joining of the gang. Charles would often try to educate Arthur on how to use a bow but it proved a futile thing, though Arthur could shoot a bow he would never be very good at it. The wagon in front of them finally branched away to the left.  
"When does it end?" Charles finally asked.  
"What end?"  
"The running?"  
"Well, Dutch don't see it as running," Arthur pointed out.  
"Call it what you want," Charles replied with a shake of his head.  
"I don't know," Arthur said honestly, "Before if you put enough time and distance between you and the problem eventually it went away. This is a big country. Now though? With all those Pinkertons...hang on a second. That must be it up ahead." Arthur didn't finish. He hadn't quite known what he was saying anyway.

As they reached the crest of the hill Arthur could see the flat lying of the creek below, it was dried up mostly a few lingering puddles here and there but otherwise a spot that he wouldn't choose in his wildest dreams. It was far to open and the camp would be seen for miles. It didn't take long for Charles to voice a similar opinion to Arthur's thoughts.  
"Seems very open," Charles seemed unimpressed.  
"Ain't sure it'd be the best in the rain, neither," Arthur noted. What if they had a downpour like the other night? The whole thing would be flooded. "Let's just take a look around and see."

Both horses slipped down the sandy bank and onto the creek bed. Arthur pulled Achilles to a halt as he surveyed the area. Too open. Dutch would be a fool for thinking this would work for them at least Horseshoe was hidden and on high ground. Where were the horses to go? On the bank while the camp sat in its centre? What happened if they needed to move quick? Would the wagons get stuck in the moist creek bed? Charles cast an unsure glance to Arthur before moving off down the creek. Turning Achilles Arthur began in the opposing direction. Arthur wondered down the bank toward an old dilapidated building that was crushing under its own weight. The moss covered rotten wood cracked and splintering, the stilts barely able to support the small shack. It must have been a mill at some point but had little use now. Beyond that was the train tracks. Trees lined the right hand bank in spaced clusters but nothing that could provide a strong degree of security. Arthur turned Achilles and spurred him forward cantering back along the creek. He knew Micah was a fool but this? Not with the women and children. Arthur could feel the horses hooves sinking slightlyy as they passed through a pooled puddle. No this wouldn't do at all. As it stood a man on a roan morgan had just descended into the creek and seemed to be tracking some deer.  
"Hey!" Charles called out from further up the bank, "I see something over there."  
Great. What else.  
Spurring Achilles forward again Arthur drew level with Taima as they both drew closer to the lump on the floor. This wasn't good. Ravens fluttered into the air at their approach and Arthur grimaced when he saw the outline of a body collapsed on the floor. He hoped that hunter didn't wonder closer and blame them-they had enough trouble. Charles dismounted and approahced the body, crouching next to it and assessing it.  
"Well?" Arthur asked.  
"He's been shot," Charles confirmed.  
"Looks like trouble got here before us."  
"Better to have been before us then here to meet us," Charles shrugged before standing again. Arthur looked ahead and noticed a camp lying in a gully that branched off the creek.  
"Looks like a camp, get ready for business," Arthur swung his leg over the front of the saddle and pulled the repeater from the holster and looked to Charles. "Any issues shoot first, questions later."  
Charles scowled at Arthur now as he retrieved his sawed-off from his own saddle. "I'm not gonna shoot for the sake of it, Arthur."  
"Suit yourself, let's take a look," Arthur shrugged moving forward toward the gully.


End file.
